Real Affection Universe 1: Real Affection
by DianeB
Summary: All my Trekker friends said it couldn't happen. I said why SURE it could! My version of how Chakotay and Seven got together.


Author's Note: April, 2001. This story takes place soon after the episode, "Author, Author," but is based on the events of "Human Error." I felt the call to write a Chakotay/Seven story mainly because some of my webfriends said it could never happen. Having been the victim (several times in my life) of sudden rushes of desire for a person I'd been seeing every day, I speak truthfully when I say, oh yes, it very well _could_ happen. Add to this the fact that _Voyager_'s rumor mill must be working 24/7 by now, and, well, there ya have it. Rated PG (no naughty bits this time).

Disclaimer: Paramount, er, CBS owns it all. Probably always will. I accept this.

Real Affection 1:  
Real Affection  
by DianeB

Chakotay was nobody's fool, but he could be a little blind at times. Sometimes it was out of necessity, other times it was because he just plain didn't see it. It took his subconscious a couple of weeks to get through to him, but when it did, it hit him like the proverbial ton of bricks, right there in the corridor as he was heading from the mess hall to his quarters.

_I'll be damned_, he thought, stopping abruptly, allowing a smile to inch across his face. Puzzling occurrences of the past several weeks suddenly crystallized, as did a few of the rumors. _Voyager_ was a fish bowl in the most obvious sense. Absolutely nothing remained unseen for very long, especially the things that _should_.

He wasn't sure he was happy to have figured this one out, but on the other hand, he wasn't exactly wringing his hands in despair. His smile kicked up a notch as something else occurred to him, something his twisted sense of humor wickedly appreciated: If the rumors were even remotely true, he was getting to be quite the popular guy – at least on the holodeck.

His next thought, brightened by his last, was _what the hell_, and he changed directions.

**oOo oOo oOo**

Seven-of-Nine was in Astrometrics with Icheb, trying to think of a way to keep one step ahead of the boy. It was becoming an increasingly arduous task, so much so that she was considering asking the Doctor to check her cortical node again. But she knew she wasn't malfunctioning. As Tom Paris phrased it, the kid was a wiz.

At that moment, she heard the doors open behind her and was grateful for whatever distraction the sound might afford. She spun on her heel to face the last person she wanted to see and was immediately availed of another Tom Paris idiom: Be careful what you wish for.

A subtle flick of her implant-brow. "Commander."

He graced her with a rare, dimpled smile and an even rarer tilt of his head. "Seven, still working Icheb to death? Shouldn't you both be off duty now?"

Before she could come up with a response, Icheb spoke.

"I'm sorry, sir, it was my fault. I insisted Seven show me the level-ten diagnostic codes before we ended today's session. I did not realize how late it was." He actually snapped to attention, staring straight ahead blankly.

Seven was astounded, or as astounded as she ever allowed herself to be. In a rare flash of humor, she wondered how soon she could be promoted to Commander.

Chakotay merely seemed amused by this display. "At ease, Icheb. I hear Naomi's been after you for a kadis-kot rematch."

Icheb smiled a little smugly and rocked on his heels. "She'll never beat me."

"Never say never. She's in the mess right now, setting up the board. I told her if I saw you I'd issue the challenge."

Icheb rolled his eyes towards Seven. She cocked her head and raised her implant brow at him. "You are dismissed, Icheb. We can finish the codes tomorrow." And almost as an afterthought, she added, "You did very well today."

He cocked his head and smiled, blissfully unaware that he had mimicked her perfectly. "Thank you, Seven," and disappeared through the doors.

Seven turned back to Chakotay, resisting an odd desire to sigh. "Thank _you_, Commander."

Chakotay clearly heard the sigh and the emphasis that indicated how sharp her sense of humor was becoming, but he also consciously noticed for the first time how she seemed to be holding herself _away_ from him. "What's wrong, Seven, Icheb getting the better of you?"

"He is very…" She searched for a word, coming up with only one that fit. "…_efficient_." She realized she was dangerously close to the "small talk," she had been studiously trying to avoid with the Commander over the past few weeks and hoped he would soon be on his way. She wondered, in fact, why he was here in the first place.

"I'll just bet. Maybe I can talk B'Elanna into taking him off your hands for a few days. We can use her pregnancy as an excuse for needing an extra pair of hands. If I catch her at the right moment, she might even admit it's true. How's that sound?"

"That would be acceptable, Commander. It will give me the time I need to formulate additional lesson plans."

"Consider it done."

She expected Chakotay to say his farewells and leave, but he did not. Uncharacteristically, he continued to stand there, as if he wanted to say something more but couldn't decide what. She was herself unsure what to do and because of it felt an unaccustomed heat rise to her face. This physiological response was a _blush_, she knew, and she did not care for it at all. This was not like her holodeck simulation, and even if it were, she never once _blushed_ in the presence of the holo-version of Chakotay. This would definitely not do. The Doctor said she could not risk emotional stimulation of this kind.

Wait a minute, of _what_ kind? She had been extremely professional around Chakotay these past couple of weeks. She had even gone so far as to attend various and sundry crew gatherings as he had suggested, each time maintaining a careful distance from him if he was in attendance. Except for this exchange, there had been no "small talk" at all. So, no, she told herself firmly, there was no "emotional stimulation."

As far as she knew, Chakotay had no idea he had been the subject of her romantic intentions on the holodeck, despite what the rumor mill had to say. She learned the hard way during her first year aboard how fast the rumor mill could grind – and how it could sometimes be alarmingly on target. It wasn't that the Doctor betrayed doctor/patient confidentiality or anything so insidious as that. It was just that the mill seemed to have a life of its own – a very fulfilling and satisfying life. It never occurred to her – as it hadn't during the first year – that her own actions, especially with regard to Commander Chakotay, would contribute heavily to the rumors. She only knew that right now she wanted to be away from him and opened her mouth to speak.

Unfortunately, Chakotay spoke at the same time.

"Commander…"

"Seven…"

**oOo oOo oOo**

Chakotay, feeling a little like Icheb, rushed to get the words out before Seven put him soundly in his place for making her blush. He'd already figured out what he would ask, knowing she was done with things like dinner and dancing. That thought brought him up short and tied his tongue for another minute. Spirits, he felt _a lot_ like Icheb! This was no way to confirm a rumor, if that's what he was honestly trying to do, but it was a bit too late to stop now. This no longer felt as much like "what the hell" as it had only a few minutes ago. So when, he wondered, did his feelings change?

_Chak, old man, you've fallen in it now and – look at her! She's ready to beat you black and blue and all you can see are her damned pink cheeks. _Before he could allow his thoughts to stray any further, he screwed up his courage and spit the words out.

"Would you care to walk with me in the airponics bay? Noah's just finished the path through the roses, and I promised Neelix I'd pick a few Talaxian tomatoes for tomorrow's spaghetti sauce." A pang of regret, just a little pang, stabbed him as he mentioned the tomatoes, but he neatly reined it in, placing it carefully back in the corner of his heart where he kept all things related to Kathryn Janeway. He was so caught up in his thoughts, he nearly missed Seven's acceptance.

"…to see what Noah Lessing has done, and I hear Neelix's spaghetti sauce is one of the few dishes he does _not_ enhance with leola root." She paused, and he saw a ripple of what he could only describe as uncertainty pass through her. Then she forged on. "It is a…date, Commander."

He grimaced inwardly, thinking that was probably not the right way to put it, but she had, and he couldn't exactly deny it.

**oOo oOo oOo**

Seven was suspicious of Chakotay's invitation at first, but she dismissed it after taking a good hard look at him. He seemed to retreat inside himself after mentioning the Talaxian tomatoes, and she wasn't sure how else to bring him around but to say something. In spite of not wanting to be anywhere near him, she decided she must accept, since he might truly become suspicious if she refused at this point. Before exiting Astrometrics with him, she allowed a half-second's thought to the complexities of being human and another to the fact that she was _thinking about_ humanity's complexities at all.

**oOo oOo oOo**

In the arboretum, Chakotay placed his shallow basket full of tomatoes on the floor and turned to the young woman beside him. During their walk on the path around the roses, she said very little, answering him only when asked a direct question, and then using words of one syllable.

"Noah's done a great job in here, hasn't he?"

"Yes."

"What do you think of the roses?"

"Fragrant."

"How's the temperature in here?"

"Fine."

He finally couldn't stand it anymore. "How 'bout I lob a tomato at that implant of yours?"

That got a rise out of her, or at least out of her eyebrow. "Commander?"

He sighed. Might as well not beat around the bush. They were alone in the bay, and s_he_ certainly never hesitated to speak her mind. "Call me Chakotay while we're taking a walk in airponics, okay?"

She nodded and he continued. "Listen, I couldn't help but notice you've been avoiding me lately and speaking only when necessary about ship's business. Did I do something to offend you?"

This got a clear physical reaction. Color rose sharply to her face again and he could sense a flight response, which he determined he would not allow.

"Commander, I am sorry. I must go." Before she could make a move to turn from him, he took hold of her arm.

"Chakotay, remember? And you accepted my invitation to come here, so stay here and tell me."

She shook her arm free but was no longer poised to flee. "Tell you what?"

"Whatever is bothering you." Might as well go for broke. "About me."

Her Borg confidence was nearly gone. "There is…nothing 'bothering' me about you."

He smiled and tilted his head, feeling a little like he was in one of Jenn Delaney's ridiculous romance holonovels. "And you're a worse liar than B'Elanna." He paused to switch paths. Why in the universe had he started this? He really did not want to put her on the spot so thoroughly. It was unfair, anyway, since his own heart was pounding like a tribal drum. Time to extract them both from this supremely uncomfortable situation.

"Ah, Seven, forget I asked. You know how it can be on this ship. I've been listening to too many rumors. Let's get these to Neelix, shall we?" He bent to pick up the tomatoes, but as he did, she placed her implant-hand on his shoulder. He froze and did not look up.

"Commander, there is something I must…share…with you."

To his credit, he tried to stop her. "No, Seven, I've been out of line this evening. It's not necessary…" But she went on as if she hadn't heard him.

"Three weeks ago, when I was…abusing…my holodeck privileges…" She did not bother to pretend he did not know at least this much. "…I created a holodeck program that included a simulation of…you. And I used you as a romantic interest, in an attempt to enhance my social skills. But I…malfunctioned. If it is any consolation to you, I learned from the Doctor that there is a Borg fail-safe device in my cortical node that prevents me from any kind of real-life emotional stimulation. He said it was probably just one more way the Queen had of controlling the drones. I destroyed my program at that time, and I am very sorry I used you in that manner. I can assure you, it will not happen again."

She did not have to tell him this, even though it pretty much confirmed one of the rumors – except that part about the Borg device. The rest – her using him as a romantic interest – he could deal with later, if at all, but the device part he could address right now, because it disturbed him far more than the idea of his holographic image being used in such a way by Seven-of-Nine. Hadn't she already experienced plenty of emotional stimulation? Grief, joy, fear, anger, guilt, even paranoia? He straightened and faced her, voicing his disbelief.

"Now wait a minute, Seven, that device, that just can't be right. What did the Doctor say, exactly?" He knew her eidetic memory would allow her to repeat the Doctor's words verbatim. Perhaps she had misinterpreted what he had said.

"He said the device is designed to shut down my higher brain functions when I achieve certain emotional stimulation."

Ah, so _certain emotional stimulation_ could mean only one thing. Spirits, he knew the Borg Queen was cruel, but he never thought she could maintain such intimate control of a drone even when it was no longer a drone. He wondered if this device was in every drone, as the Doctor must have assumed, or only in a chosen few? He wouldn't put it past the Queen to pick and choose.

"There must be something the Doctor can do. I can't believe he didn't have an idea or two."

She had been looking directly at him during this conversation, but now she turned her head. No color rose this time, but he did see another striking emotional display. Her eyes filled with tears.

Gently, he took her chin in his hand and turned her head slowly back to him. She blinked, and two tears trailed down her cheeks. This woman made of steel was so fragile. "What is it, Seven? Is there nothing the Doctor can do?"

"No…Commander," she said, removing his hand from her face. "There _is _something he can do. He has, in fact, already advised me of the procedure. He said it would be difficult but that it would eventually succeed."

He studied her. She had regained her Borg countenance almost completely, standing rigidly before him with her chin up, hands clasped behind her back. Only the telltale stains of the tears gave away any humanity.

He tried to lighten the mood. "Well, then, what're we standing around here for? Let's beam you right to Sickb—."

She swallowed convulsively. "No."

He was not surprised by her negative response, but he couldn't imagine why she wouldn't want to be free of a device that would not allow her her sexual expression. "Why not?"

"It is all for the best, Commander, as the fail-safe device will ensure that I am no longer…distracted…by things other than my duties, nor will I be tempted to create holocharacters in the image of fellow crewman for personal…intimacies."

If it had been anyone else but Seven, he would have checked her palms for nail holes. But it wasn't anyone else. She was absolutely certain this was the only way, the only choice she had.

He hadn't realized he was touching her face again, until he felt her human hand close around his wrist. But this time she didn't remove his hand from her face, she just held hers there, around his wrist. Her hand was warm. Her cheek was warm.

"No, Seven," he whispered. "The fail-safe device will only ensure that you'll never have your freedom to live and to _love_ as a human being. Sure, you may make a few bad decisions along the way, but at least you won't die because of them. Do you understand the difference?"

His face was so close to hers he could feel her breath, and he knew this was the exact kind of "certain emotional stimulation" she must avoid if she did not allow the Doctor his procedure.

This close, he was not sure _he_ could avoid it and struggled to pull himself away from her. But she held fast to his wrist, applying pressure enough to produce just a twinge of discomfort, and slid his hand further along her cheek, so his fingers brushed the starburst implant by her ear. She voiced his thoughts, throaty, low.

"'Certain emotional stimulation' of this sort will have to be avoided unless I allow the Doctor to perform surgery on me."

He thought she was letting him off this unbelievably erotic hook he had managed to snag himself on, but it was nothing of the sort. Just before she kissed him, she said, "Experimentation on the holodeck has taught me I have several hours' worth of warning before my higher brain functions begin to shut down."

End


End file.
